


life imitates art

by tsunderestorm



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ficlet, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsunderestorm/pseuds/tsunderestorm
Summary: Sylvain wakes up to Ashe reading an erotic novel.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 104





	life imitates art

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Daniverse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daniverse/gifts).



> I asked for prompts on my [twitter](twitter.com/tsunderestorm) and Dani asked for sylvashe and the prompt “good morning beautiful/handsome". Enjoy, Dani! ♥

“Hey, so… do you mind if I crash in your room for the night?” Sylvain asks, sidling up to him in the training hall, whistling when he _thunks_ an arrow dead center into the target. Five years and nothing’s changed; Sylvain is bigger, broader, bereaved, but he’s still _Sylvain_ , flirtatious and predictable.

“Sylvain…” Ashe sighs, un-shouldering his quiver and lowering his bow. “What did you do now? How many broken hearts did you leave in your wake? How many angry men are chasing you this time? You know, after five years - ”

Sylvain interrupts, “Nothing, actually, no broken hearts, and no angry men. Just thought it might be fun to stay in your room, is all.”

\--

Sylvain wakes to Ashe beside him in his bed, balancing a book in his lap so the early morning sunlight casts perfect illumination across the words.

“G’morning,” he mumbles blearily, putting his arms behind his head on the pillow and offering Ashe a smile that could stop a war. “What are you reading this time?”

“Oh… one of those books that you recommended to me years ago, actually… the, uh… knight stories that they wouldn’t have allowed in the library. I came across a few in the years since… in varying degrees of depravity. Ha… it’s funny, years ago I probably wouldn’t have admitted that to you.”

“Steamy…” Sylvain laughs, rich and throaty, looking as Ashe finishes his paragraph and turns the page. Sylvain catches a glimpse of the right-hand side, reads enough to see _t"he squire trembled like a leaf in the wind when he felt the good knight’s manhood press against his arse, thankful that his hole had been made slick as a baby seal. The girth of his master’s member was substantial, and he felt delighted that he may be allowed to ready not only his lance for the joust, but his lance of pleasure as well."_

“Looks like a good one,” Sylvain teases. “Gotta love a good lance handling. But if you had a customized erotic novel, what would you ask for?”

Ashe sets the book in the windowsill with a laugh, and Sylvain is obsessed with the airy sound of it: soft, like wind chimes, a little high and nasally in a way that’s completely and utterly endearing. “If you want complete honesty, I’d… probably base the guy in my story on you, Sylvain.”

Sylvain quirks a brow as he determines whether or not Ashe is serious and, confirming it to be sincere, adopts a steamy, smoldering look. Eyes half-lidded and mouth parted sensually, sitting up on his elbow to let the sheet fall off of him dramatically, he asks “Oh, my supple squire, wouldst thou enjoy making ready my Lance of Ruin for battle?”

Ashe covers his mouth when he barks out a laugh, shaking his head as if to say _insufferable_. Pushing his bed partner back down onto his back, he swings his leg over Sylvain’s to straddle his waist and chirps, “Why yes, good sir, I would be honored! I think I’ll polish it with my mouth, just to make certain that it makes the good sir proud!”

Five years have done wonders for Ashe’s confidence. Sylvain’s half-hard and not ashamed, hands settling into place on Ashe’s skinny hips as he looks up at him: a blush bright on his freckled cheeks, green eyes cloudy with desire. Ashe catches Sylvain’s eye, shifting to slide a knee between Sylvain’s legs to spreading them as she scoots down the length of him. Eventually, he settles in between his thighs as his fingers start in on the laces of Sylvain’s loose trousers. He draws his cock out with an appreciative little sound that Sylvain doesn’t let himself miss, revels in it and wonders if Ashe has any more compliments in store for him, because he sure has them for him.

“Oh, good _morning_ , beautiful,” Sylvain says, stopping the charade enough to be honest, propping his hands back behind his head and letting Ashe go to work.

“Good morning, handsome,” Ashe says in response, licking across the tip of Sylvain’s hardening cock. It’s a good sight, honestly, one that Sylvain could get used to. One that he hopes he gets used to, because that would mean neither of them are alone and neither of them are _dead_ in the midst of this war

“You’re so beautiful, Ashe,” Sylvain says. “You’re really amazing, you know? When I said you were an overall great guy, I had no idea how true that would be… an incredible archer, an amazing friend, and a _gorgeous_ lover, might I add?”

Ashe is honestly pretty this is Sylvain’s cock is doing the talking, rather than his head or, goddess forbid, his heart, and it’s hardly the time for heartfelt compliments about his moral fiber besides, but it’s nice. Hearing those things from Sylvain, from the guy who he’s carried a torch for these past five years.

Fully hard, the feel of Sylvain’s cock on his tongue makes Ashe lightheaded, and he works a hand down between his legs to take his own cock in hand, slick at the tip and hard under his fingers. He aches with an intensity he didn’t know he could feel just from sucking cock, pulling back to pant out stuttered breaths and resting it against his cheek just to soak in the feel of it.

Sylvain’s hands don’t stay behind his head for long, and Ashe is glad for it, glad when one of Sylvain’s big hands cradles his cheek and slides up to curl into his hair, brushing it off his forehead as he rests his head on Sylvain’s thick thigh. He’s noisy about it with no reason to be quiet, slurping the spit and cum dripping down Sylvain’s cock as his fingers tease his balls, pressing just behind them for what he knows will be a sharp burst of pleasure. Ashe has sucked his fair share of cocks before Sylvain’s, but never one attached to anyone more responsive… Sylvain’s thick cock jumps in his grip, pulses against his tongue, makes him own drip where he’s dragging it against the sheets.

He’s lost in it, lost in the motion of bobbing his head, hollowing his cheeks, really putting his back into choking down Sylvain’s cock until Sylvain is saying _hey, hey, c’mere_ and Ashe is letting go of his cock with a wet slurp, fisting a hand around it instead to slick it with the spit drooled from his lips. Sylvain guides Ashe up from between his legs and atop him, opposite, thighs spread over his face as Ashe’s returns to its new, very welcome home between his. His mouth waters to return the favor, nuzzling against Ashe’s balls before he presses his tongue against his perineum, holding his hips steady in his skilled lance-wielder’s hands as the smaller man shudders.

Ashe descends back onto Sylvain’s cock with renewed fervor as he grinds down against his face, against the flat of Sylvain’s tongue against his balls, the tip of his tongue against, inside of, licking open his hole, the hot, wet clutch of his mouth when he sucks him.

Ashe comes before Sylvain does because the guy is just _that_ good, something Sylvain takes pride in as Ashe’s cock spurts ropes of milky white against his open mouth. He lets it drip down his chin, licks enough to get a taste and moans as he fucks up into Ashe’s mouth. He’s not going to last long, not with his lover’s lack of a gag reflex (oh goddess, that’s nice) and the palm kneading his balls with just the right amount of pressure to really get him off. Ashe shudders when Sylvain spills down his throat, swallowing it down and letting his cock fall from his mouth with what Sylvain thinks is a distinct _whine_.

“Now, _that’s_ erotic novel-worthy, eh?” Sylvain teases.


End file.
